


Art/Words: A World Without Colour (The Emrys MK Remix)

by LFB72



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Art, Camelot Remix, Canon Era, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Magic Revealed, Pining, Reunions, Seperation, Sick Character, Snow, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-05-09 04:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14709173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LFB72/pseuds/LFB72
Summary: It’s been five years since Merlin left. Arthur wonders if he will finally come back to Camelot to visit his ailing mentor, Gaius. Arthur is now king and those with magic are accepted and have returned to the city — all except the one person he can never forget.Four pieces of traditional art using pastel pencils and dividersChapter 1 Words/ArtChapter2 Art only





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Emrys MK (mk_malfoy)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mk_malfoy/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A Magical Christmas in Camelot (or How Merlin Put the Magic Back in Arthur's Christmas)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8821393) by [Emrys MK (mk_malfoy)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mk_malfoy/pseuds/Emrys%20MK). 



> Emrys mk had so many lovely fics; it was difficult to choose but this one resonated. I hope I have kept to the essence of her story in terms of the pain of separation, reunions, regrets, lost opportunities and parental relationships.  
> Thanks to my wonderful art and word betas who gave up their precious time to help me. I could not do this without their skill and expertise.

 

 

[ ](https://imgur.com/ERDuFp7)

 

_“Arthur, it’s snowing!” Merlin said in awe. A mischievous grin played across his features as he scooped up a handful of white powder, moulded it with his long fingers and fired it at Arthur’s head. The projectile missed, but as far as the Crown Prince was concerned, this was a declaration of war._

_A snowball fight ensued of epic proportions and by the end of it, Merlin was a giggling, soggy mess. Arthur was both flushed and exhilarated, having had far more fun being pelted than he had ever expected._

Arthur doesn’t enjoy the snow any more.

He could pretend as king such frivolity is beneath him. He could argue it's because such weather brings harsh winters, scarce food supplies and the extra responsibility of looking after his people. The truth is such conditions evoke memories that are far too painful.

Despite being over five years ago, Arthur can see the scene clearly; hear Merlin’s laughter and feel the cold wet snow slide down his neck – he can remember every detail as if it were yesterday.

Arthur grips the battlements; virgin frost melts under his hands and moisture seeps through his gloves, chilling his fingers. The courtyard below is empty. No one would be out in this weather if they did not have to be – even the guards are tucked away out of sight.

Fine flakes of snow nip at his skin, burning his cheeks and stinging his eyes. The air is cold and crisp, creating a stillness that gives the surrounding hills an eerie silence. Snow covers what is usually lush and green and makes the world look monochrome. The world _is_ monochrome to Arthur, has been since the day Merlin left.

Something had caught his eye, making a spark of hope bloom in his chest. He’d run up the stairs, still in full armour, and rushed out on to the battlement, but even from this vantage point there is nothing. It must have been his imagination, no more than a trick of the light.

A solitary hawk circles overhead, but apart from that he is alone. Alone in a kingdom full of people.

A noise makes him turn.

“Morgana?”

“I thought I’d find you here.” She wraps her dark green velvet cloak tight against her shoulders and gives an involuntary shudder.

“Is there news?”

“No, Gaius is the same. There has been no change in his condition.” She takes a deep breath. “You think he will come?”

Arthur clenches his fists and turns away, scanning the vista once again. There is no need to clarify who Morgana is referring to.

“Gaius was like a father to Merlin. If anything would bring him back… he’d want to say goodbye…”

_Before Gaius dies._

Arthur flounders. Death is such an inevitable and constant thing – part of the fabric of life, especially for a soldier and a physician, and yet the subject is difficult to broach, the very word a taboo.

 “They had a bond,” he concludes.

“So did you.”

_I broke it._

He snorts, pivoting on his heel to face her. “It’s gone, Morgana. _He’s_ gone and he’s never coming back! He could be dead for all I know.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“You’ve seen something?”

She bites her lip. “No. I can never find him – I’ve tried but…” She shakes her head.

Morgana is a powerful seer, and yet Merlin’s fate and whereabouts remain elusive.

“But what?” he presses.

“It’s like… something is blocking me,” she concedes.

“Is that even possible?”

“Apparently.” Morgana frowns. “There are some that can – if they’re powerful enough.”

The thought of Merlin being powerful is hard to envisage, but there was a time when the mere notion of Merlin having magic at all seemed absurd.

“We never got to find out.”

Arthur knew about the magic. He suspected it at least, but he never said anything. It was easier to wrap himself up in the blanket of oblivion, to let things stay as they were, to pretend not to notice. Then Merlin got caught.

“I should never have let him go.”

Morgana sucks in an audible breath, and her response is sharp as a whip. “What could you have done, Arthur? If he’d stayed, he’d have been executed like all magic users back then. There was nothing you could do.”

“I could have gone after him.”

She lets out a harsh laugh. “Don’t be a fool. You were the heir to the throne, Uther’s only son; he would have hunted you to the end of the earth, Arthur – you know that. He would have never let go, and his wrath would have been insatiable.”

“I should have tried harder; I should have defended him. Tried to reason with father.”

“Where did that get you? As it was you spent a week in the cells.”

“I achieved nothing. Then it was too late.”

“Wrong!” Morgana shouts fiercely. She walks towards him and places her hand on his chest.

“You have no idea, do you?”

Arthur stares. “What are you talking about?”

Her tone softens. “Even a tyrant like Uther could not bear to see his child continue to suffer. In your melancholy he saw a reflection of his own sorrow. We all did, Arthur. We felt your loss, your pain, your rage. It changed you and those around you. You became a better man. I did not think it possible, but, incredibly, there was a thread of compassion in Uther. You brought it to the surface enough to finally put an end to bloodshed and fighting.”

“No, Morgana. You made father see sense about magic. It was his love for you.”

She shakes her head as if reprimanding a small child. “I had so much anger back then; darkness was consuming me from the inside out. I was trapped and tormented, locked in a kingdom that hated magic, and I had just discovered my powers. I was alone and frightened. No one understood me. Then Merlin got caught.” She pulls away and begins to pace up and down. “His fate could have easily been mine. I felt he’d betrayed me by keeping that secret.”

“Morgana, I don’t think he told any—”

“The point is, I could have run away then too. I could have condemned those for driving me to do it. Then I watched you, Arthur. You were in a kind of shock, but you weren’t bitter or repulsed; not once did you call him evil or blame him for something he had no choice over.”

Arthur attempts to speak. Morgana holds up her hand. “Let me finish. For the first time, I saw that I could have an ally; I knew you would defend me, support me. _It made all the difference;_ I finally had someone I could confide in.”

“ _That’s_ what made you tell me?”

She nods. “You are my brother, Arthur. I love you dearly, but there is no denying at one time you were no more than an arrogant and bigoted brat. You followed Uther like a lapdog, craving his approval.” She let the words resonate for a moment. “You changed. Something about Merlin, the way you were together, brought out the best in you. Over time you began to question things, form your own opinions. You finally believed in yourself enough to escape Uther’s shadow.”

_Sister_ – the term still took some getting used to. The revelation had been a shock, a deathbed confession from a once formidable king reduced to no more than a shell of a man shedding his sins.

It still pained Arthur to think of his father’s decline; for all his faults he’d been a strong and successful leader who had done what he believed was best for Camelot, no matter how misguided. Arthur had witnessed that imposing man with a quick temper shrink and wither before his eyes.

Uther was never the same after the attack from Morgause.

Morgana had warned and ultimately protected Arthur, but in doing so revealed her gift. Faced with the prospect of executing his ward or revising the laws on magic, Uther was left with no choice – the love of his daughter outweighed his principles. A twenty-year crusade went up in flames, and the king was burnt by the ash of a crumbling belief system. He never fully recovered.

Uther was a hypocrite; his actions chased away Merlin and destroyed their future, but he was still Arthur’s father and he had cared for his children in his own perverse way. Arthur could not bring himself to hate. In the end he felt only pity and sadness for the man whose rage and retribution had contributed to his own downfall.

“Arthur?”

“Hmm?”

“It’s not often I give compliments, brother; if this is the response I get, I’ll be more careful in the future.”

“You were praising me?” The corner of his mouth twitches.

She gathers up some snow in delicate fingers and fires a surprisingly large and accurate shot at his head.

“Hey!” Arthur shakes the flakes from his hair.

“Stop it Arthur!” She squeals ducking a shower of ice. “You look just like that hound Merlin used to have. Remember? The strange shaggy beast he’d chase haplessly around the courtyard. It was always jumping in the horses’ water trough and soaking everyone when it dried off. Uther used to get so angry, threaten to have the thing put down…” She pauses. “I’ve not seen it in years, I wonder what became of it.”

“It disappeared the same time he did.”

Morgana’s smile fades. “Oh Arthur, you can’t go on like this; you have to let Merlin go.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

She sighs. “I’ve told you. Your future lies with another.”

“Your visions?”

“Yes.”

“An alliance…”

 “Would make Camelot stronger and send a message to the other kingdoms.”

“I don’t know.”

“Agree to a meeting at least.”

Arthur doesn’t answer her straight away, choosing instead to remove his sodden gloves and study his own hands. They’re red and mottled, the joints stiff with cold. Merlin would have chastised him for not looking after his digits. Merlin would rubbed oil into the leather making it soft and able to repel water… but Merlin isn’t here. He isn’t coming.

“ _Fine!_ Arrange a meeting, but I am not promising anything. _Happy_?”

“Delighted!” She replies, but her smile does not reach her eyes. She puts a hand on his arm and gives it a small squeeze then withdraws her grasp.

Arthur lets out a shaky breath.

Morgana stamps her feet; shaking off the loose snow. “Come on, I’m getting cold. Are you coming in or staying out here to mope?”

“The king does not mope.”

“Arthur, you’re fooling no one; you have been miserable for five years.”

“Then a few more minutes won’t make any difference, will it?” He says curtly.

“Arthur!”

“Sorry.” He lifts his hands up in a pacifying gesture. “Go ahead. I’ll follow you, in a moment.”

“Mind that you do. We don’t want you getting sick as well.”

“I wouldn't dare.”

“Take care, Arthur.”  Her gaze lingers for a moment, then she’s gone.

The door bangs. He’s alone again.

It was from this balcony he saw Merlin for the last time. Arthur recalls the events from five years ago:

 

_A beast; a large, black, cat-like creature with wings was savagely attacking the citizens of Camelot. Several people had been killed but the knights had it cornered. Arthur was about to deliver the killing blow when a voice stayed his hand._

_‘Stop! It’s not her fault. It’s a curse!’_

_Arthur looked up to see Merlin sprinting towards him, arms outstretched. In his distraction, the beast sprung. It launched itself forward baring teeth and claws._

_Arthur braced for impact and a sudden death. It did not come._

_The beast was suspended in mid-air. Everything had stopped, paused like a painting. Merlin was standing with his arms reaching out, palms splayed and eyes glowing gold._

_A transparent shield formed around Arthur, another around the creature. Within the safety of the bubble, the beast fought, roaring and writhing, until it transformed into a young woman._

_Through the transparent barrier Arthur stared at Merlin._

_“Sorry,” the sorcerer mouthed, one second before his knees buckled and his eyes rolled back._

_Merlin collapsed on the floor. The shields shattered and chaos erupted._

 

Arthur pinches the bridge of his nose. What happened next is fragmented and painful to recall: all he can remember clearly is shoving a guard out of the way yelling, ‘The sorcerer needs to be kept alive for questioning!’ then seeing Merlin’s limp form being dragged across the ground by his feet, head and shoulders bouncing off the cobbles as he’s pulled roughly way.

That night he’d come up here to think, to work out what to do, to make sense of what had happened – then he saw them. Creeping across the courtyard, Merlin and the girl – escaping.

Arthur did nothing. He watched him walk away. He has regretted it ever since.

 

Unable to stop himself, he peers over the balcony once again. There is a lone figure in the courtyard.

 

 

 

Arthur charges down the stairs, taking them two at a time, then sprints along the corridor. The sound of his feet is deafening as they slap against the stone. He only slows as he approaches the entrance. His heart pounds as he sucks in deep breaths providing much needed oxygen to burning lungs and limbs. He searches the courtyard, but it’s empty.

Stepping out into the open makes no difference – it’s pointless. He tries to shout, but the name dies on his lips. Arthur retreats into the corridor, the weight of his armour heavy against his shoulders. He slumps against the wall, banging his head against the cold stone.

_I was so sure._

Arthur brings his hand to his head. His breathing is no longer laboured, but his clothes are cold and clammy, sweat trickles down his spine, and he gives an involuntary shiver.

 “Looking for someone?”

“Merlin?”

A tall, lean, man emerges from the shadows, pushing off the wall.

“Merlin, is that you?”

The figure comes into the light. He wears a floor-length blue cloak and holds a white staff. He looks majestic and powerful – so vastly different but inexplicably the same. Same dark, cropped, hair framing angular features. An all too familiar countenance and set to the shoulders – only slightly filled out in the way maturity brings.

“Merlin!” Arthur strides forward, arms wide.

“King Arthur.” Merlin bows his head in an act of submission.

Arthur stops abruptly. His arms flop to his sides.

“There was a time when you had a complete disregard for titles.”

“There was a time when Camelot had a complete disregard for magic.”

Merlin’s response sounds harsh, but Arthur can hardly blame the man for being bitter. Magic made him an exile, even if the later part was of his own choosing.

“Not anymore. Those with magic are welcome here. _You_ are welcome here, Merlin.”

For all the countless times Arthur had envisaged this moment, it had not played quite like this.

There is a gentle touch against his arm, and Arthur looks up into earnest blue eyes.

“Thank you.” Merlin says then quickly withdraws his hand.

Arthur rubs the same spot on his arm. “It's been a long time,” he manages.

“Five years.”

“I’m… It’s good to see you again, Merlin.”

Merlin nods.

“I’m glad you came back.”

“Gaius needs me.”

_I need you._

“You were very close.”

_“Were?_ Am I too late?” Merlin looks ready to bolt.

“What, No! Never too late. Just that the two of you were very close when you lived here.” Arthur clarifies.

_We were very close once too._

Merlin’s shoulders visibly relax. “I’d like to see him.”

“Of course, I… I will take you there myself.” Arthur turns, expecting Merlin to follow, but he doesn’t.

“Merlin?”

“It’s alright, I think I remember the way.”

Arthur pauses, his foot hovering in the air. “Right.” His face is burning and a droplet of sweat is making its way down his cheek. He catches it with his glove and tries to regain his composure. His hair is damp and no doubt in disarray.

So many times he’s thought about meeting Merlin again, _so many times_. After the initial lethargy and weight loss, Arthur had thrown himself into training, regaining muscle. All these years he’d kept his athletic frame but it’s now hidden with bulky armour. Armour that somehow has never been as well maintained as it was when Merlin cared for it. _How must I look?_ Here stands the mighty King of Camelot – a dishevelled mess.

“Not a lot has changed. He’s where he’s always been. I offered him a better room, but he wouldn’t move.”

“That sounds like Gaius. How is he?”

“Older, like all of us. He’s frail; last winter was hard, this one more so. He informs me he won’t make it to spring.”

Merlin grimaces and looks away. “Always the physician,” he chokes.

“He’ll be pleased to see you. He never spoke about it, but I know he missed you a lot.”

_I missed you._

Merlin just nods. Eyes bright.

They both stand there, shuffling from foot to foot.

Arthur clears his throat. “Will you stay?”

There is a long pause before Merlin replies. “I don’t know yet.”

“I’ll have a guest room made up—”

“I’d like to be in my old room… if that’s alright?”

“If it makes you more comfortable.”

“It does.” He bites his lip then gestures at the corridor. “I’d better—”

Arthur nods. “Right, well, I’ll leave you to it.”

“Alright.”

“Merlin…”

“Yes?”

“Don’t leave without saying goodbye.”

_Not this time._

Merlin gives a sad smile. “I won’t.”

Arthur gives a curt nod and purposely strides towards the stairs. He gets about halfway up before he looks back.

Merlin hasn’t moved. He’s staring up at him.

Neither speak for a while. The silence is unbearable. Arthur cracks first.

“I’ll be—”

“I’ll find you… I’ve always been able to find you.” He smiles, warm and genuine this time. “It was good to see you again, Arthur.”

He walks away.

[ ](https://imgur.com/dPZUcvW)

 

Arthur sits with his back against the wall; he’s so engrossed in his own thoughts, he doesn’t notice the figure until a shadow falls across him. Instinctively his hand flies to his side and his sword. It drops when he sees who it is – Merlin.

“I’d never hurt you!” Merlin gasps. His face is as white as frost, and his eyes are puffy and bloodshot.

Arthur lets out a huff. “You should know better than to creep up on the king. You never used to be so stealthy.”

Merlin shrugs. “I could be if I wanted to be.”

“So you just dropped things on purpose? Made more noise than a cart horse on cobbles during hunts, why, exactly?”

The other man taps his foot. “To scare the animals away, mainly, and annoy you,” Merlin states sheepishly.

Arthur snorts. “It worked, on both counts.”

The tentative thaw in the atmosphere between them does not last. A chill descends that has nothing to do with the temperature.

Merlin rubs his shoulders and begins to pace. His footsteps echo rhythmically in the corridor until he stops and clears his throat.

“I saw you.”

“What?”

“The night I left, I saw you.”

Arthur had been in the shadows. No one had ever known he’d been there – or so he’d thought.

“Out on the battlements. You knew I was escaping, and you did not raise the alarm.”

“Did you think I would?”

Merlin blinks several times, his eyes over-bright. He picks at his sleeve, then smooths his hands on his cloak.

“I always wanted to tell you, Arthur, but I did not want you to have to make that choice.”

Arthur nods and lets out a shallow breath. “In truth, I had started to suspect, but I did not want to make that choice either. What I _should_ have done is speak to you. I should have gone after you. I regret that I didn't.”

“It wouldn’t have worked.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Your place is here Arthur, in Camelot. Your first responsibility is your people; it always has been and it always will be.”

 Silence.

“I searched for you.”

“I know.”

Merlin sighs and slides down the wall so he’s sitting next to Arthur, shoulder to shoulder.

 

[](https://imgur.com/xHEIE5L) 

 

“I did not want to be found.”

“Not even after the ban was lifted? After my father died?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Then explain it to me, _Merlin_ , because I don’t know what more I could have done to show that Camelot accepts magic now.” There is an edge to Arthur’s voice born of all the years striving to make a strong and inclusive kingdom and hoping it would be enough but it never was.

Merlin closes his eyes and lets his head rest against the wall. His voice wavers when he speaks. “I was born to serve you, Arthur. I resented it at first. At the time I found out, I thought you were a bit of an arse, to be honest.”

Arthur chokes. “I see. I’m getting a lot of that today. Nice to know you thought so highly of me. Anything else to add?” he states sardonically.

“I could not believe you were my destiny.” Merlin shakes his head and gives a wry smile. “Things change; you changed, or rather I saw the real you, compassionate and kind. I saw the man you would become, the greatest king Camelot has ever known. I was proud to serve you. I willingly risked my life for you. Then I made a mistake; I got caught. Just like that it was over.”

_It doesn’t have to be._

“I failed, Arthur! I did not know what to do; I was lost without a purpose – it was so hard. I had laboured under the weight of that destiny for years. Then it was gone in a heartbeat, and I would do anything to get it back. All my time in Camelot, I thought I was protecting you. That you _needed me_ to build Albion and return magic. You didn't need me, Arthur, you never did.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Merlin.”

 “Look at what you’ve achieved!”

“The five kingdoms united, magic accepted in Camelot.”

“Exactly! Morgana advises you on magic, and Camelot is thriving – you did it all without me. You never needed me.”

Arthur grabs Merlin’s arms so he is facing him. “Listen, everything I achieved was because of you, _everything!_ I supported the acceptance of magic because it was the right thing to do, but I would never have known that if not for you! All my life I wanted my father’s approval; I wanted him to be proud of me. Then you left, Merlin, and what my father thought did not matter anymore. I wanted _you_ to be proud of me.”

“I am.”

“Then come back. Stay.”

“I’ve made a new life for myself.”

Arthur lets go of Merlin’s arms. It’s like a bucket of cold water to the face. He feels a surge of guilt. Of course, Merlin would have moved on. Merlin did not leave alone.

“The girl you took with you.”

“Freya.”

Arthur nods.

Merlin smiles. Arthur never forgot how Merlin’s crooked grin could light up a room.

“We broke the curse. She is well; she is with child.”

Arthur chokes.

_Why should he be surprised?_ Five years is a long time; why wouldn’t he be a father by now? Merlin’s an attractive man.

“Arthur?”

“Congratulations.”

For a moment he’d thought it might be possible to have a future with Merlin again, but he’d moved on in a way Arthur had not been able to.

His musing is interrupted by gentle pressure against his arm. He looks up to see Merlin’s quizzical face.

“I’m sure you will be a good father,” he adds.

Merlin stares. “Freya and I aren't together.”

“What?”

 “We tried for a while, but it did not work. She did not want to be second choice.”

“What do you mean?”

“For the greatest king Camelot has ever known, you can be very dim sometimes.”

Arthur continues to stare blankly.

 “Who could ever compare to you, Arthur?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you great lummox. I could never love anyone else after you.”

“Love…”

“Always.”

Arthur slaps his hand on the ground. “What about the courtyard? You were so distant, so cold. I—”

“I’m sorry. Being back here is… it’s overwhelming. You're a king now, Arthur! Plus you look so damn…” Merlin waves his hand up and down, “Regal! I did not want to get attached to something I could not have. That for years I’d told myself was gone. I could not do that again.”

“Now who's the idiot?”

To hell with Morgana’s predictions. Merlin is who Arthur wants a future with, who he belongs with. He has to try.

“Stay.”

“What?”

“Come back to Camelot.”

Merlin pauses. “I’m actually due to visit Camelot in a couple of weeks, as a representative of the druids.”

Arthur purses his lips and a crease appears between his eyebrows. “Wait, representative of the druids?”

Merlin shifts uncomfortably. “I was to come here and discuss the rights of magic users.”

Arthur throws back his head and laughs.

“Arthur?”

Sobering, he turns to face Merlin. “Surely not?”

“I don’t understand.” Merlin frowns.

“You’re Emrys?”

“It is what the druids call me,” he confirms hesitantly.

Arthur is laughing so hard there are tears in his eyes.

“That amuses you?”

“You don’t understand! Morgana has been telling me to try to forget you because my future lies with another.”

“Forget me?”

“There has never been anyone else, Merlin. Morgana said it was my destiny to be with Emrys, but I did not want that; I did not want to let go of the possibility you would come back.”

Merlin shakes his head and begins hesitantly. “There was a prophecy that Emrys and the Once and Future King would build Albion together.” He has tears falling down his face. “I thought I’d failed, that I’d let you down.”

“Never.” Arthur reaches out and takes Merlin’s hand. “Tell me you will stay.”

If Merlin said yes, maybe they could begin setting the foundation for what could possibly be a future for the two of them.

“We’re different people now, Arthur. Five years is a long time.”

“Despite what I’ve been told today, I’m no fool, Merlin. I know too much has happened to just return to how we were. If there is any hope for us at all, it’s going to involve hard work, honesty and time. I’m willing to try; I want you in my life, Merlin, even if it is only as a friend.”

“I haven’t come back to lose you. You know all my secrets now, and we have all the time in the world. Besides, Gaius orchestrated this, demanded I speak to you and sort things out. I got the eyebrow, so it would be bad form to not heed his wishes,” Merlin said, a touch of mirth in his voice.  
  
Arthur remembered when his own father had been dying; confused as he was, he’d held his hand and had the audacity to tell Arthur not to give up on love. Arthur had thought bitterly at the time he wouldn’t have lost his love if it hadn’t been for Uther. His father had changed his stance on magic and Arthur would never forget the past wrongs, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t move forward and accept that Merlin was here now.

“Incredibly bad form, indeed,” he grins.  
  
Merlin stands, the weariness that had been etched on his features now completely erased. “I should probably go back to Gaius and tell him the news.”  
  
Talking of Gaius sobers the moment. It really should not have taken a dying physician to bring them together.

Merlin’s hand brushes against Arthur’s cheek; then he bends down and tentatively kisses him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Arthur,” he says, pulling away.

Arthur closes his eyes and listens to Merlin’s retreating footsteps. The touch of Merlin’s lips on his had been brief but sweet and filled with so many hopes for a future. A future Arthur feared to dream about. It’s dark now, but for the first time in five years, he can see the world in colour.

 

 [](https://imgur.com/5k0rKG9)

 

The End


	2. ART ONLY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four pieces of traditional art using pastel pencils and dividers

[ ](https://imgur.com/ERDuFp7)

[ ](https://imgur.com/B9LhqYm)

 

[ ](https://imgur.com/LmECzMk)

[](https://imgur.com/xHEIE5L) [](https://imgur.com/51A9imU) [](https://imgur.com/5k0rKG9)


End file.
